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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27436885">A Place To Call Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeGirlYuki/pseuds/ChangeGirlYuki'>ChangeGirlYuki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Character Death, Feelings, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Homeless Simon Snow, Homelessness, Human Simon Snow, M/M, Memories of the Past, Mentioned Penelope Bunce, Mentions of Suicide, Period-Typical Homophobia, Rebirth, Reunions, SnowBaz, Strangers to Lovers, Vampire Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Witch Hunts, no suicide, remembering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:40:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27436885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangeGirlYuki/pseuds/ChangeGirlYuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Keep it together, Basilton”, he hissed and slammed his fist against the painted wood once he had turned the key in it’s lock. “You're imagining things!”</p>
<p>It took him a long while but eventually Baz made his way back into the big living room where he had been reading by the fireplace. He let himself fall back into the old yet comfortable armchair, covering his face with his hands. <br/>“There is no way”, he whispered again, angrily wiping away the tear that had dared to escape his grey eyes. “This is all Penelope's fault.”<br/>Right. If the crazy witch hadn't been talking about her crazy reincarnation theories during her last visit, then Baz wouldn't be such a mess right now. Heck, who was he kidding? Of course he would be. Because this was something he had been dreaming about, had hoped and longed for. For his love to find his way back to him.</p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Baz' lover Simeon has fallen victim of homophobia and the accusation of witchcraft about a century ago. When a homeless stranger knocks at the vampire's door one day asking why the place isn't the inn it used to be, hope blossoms once more.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Place To Call Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaWinchester5/gifts">AnnaWinchester5</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for my dear friend AnnaWinchester5. She wanted some SnowBaz, so I wrote some SnowBaz. I hope you like it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Place To Call Home</p>
<p>*Disclaimer: I don't own Simon Snow or the characters. Those belong to Rainbow Rowell. No money is made with this, I live off kudos and comments. Enjoy!*</p>
<p>“This should be an inn.”</p>
<p>Blinking, Baz stared at the young man in front of him, a man that was barely a man. The stranger looked more like a homeless teen who grew up too fast. A teen with a dire need for shelter and food, if the paleness of his skin and the messy state of his bronze curls were anything to go by. The way his eyes kept skipping from side to side and the shuffling of his feet told stories about running and fighting for survival. Baz knew this kind of people, as they weren't exactly rare in this kind of neighborhood. But never in a million years had he anticipated this kind of... demand when he had opened the door this evening. </p>
<p>“Excuse me?”, Baz asked, not knowing what else to respond. He vaguely remembered seeing the other around for the past few days, passing by the few shops in the block and even coming out of the bakery once, where Baz knew the owner would gift the poor with bread he couldn't sell anymore. So when Baz had seen him through the spyhole of his door, he had thought the other would ask for some spare money or clothing or something along those lines. But this? Blue eyes looked at him with determination though as the stranger repeated what he had said and a shiver went down Baz' spine.<br/>“An inn. This place should be an inn. I can't explain why, it's just a feeling...” Shrugging, the other looked at Baz, then up above the door as if he was checking for a sign or something and then back a Baz. Before Baz had a chance to respond however, a loud noise came from one of the alleyways nearby, sounding like kicked trashcans and yelling, and the stranger flinched visibly. Without another word did he dash off, down the street and into the opposite direction of the noise. Seems like Baz had been right about the running- and fighting-part. With one last look, the dark haired man closed the door, ignoring the way his fingers shook as he did so. <br/>“Keep it together, Basilton”, he hissed and slammed his fist against the painted wood once he had turned the key in it’s lock. “You're imagining things!”</p>
<p>It took him a long while but eventually Baz made his way back into the big living room where he had been reading by the fireplace. He let himself fall back into the old yet comfortable armchair, covering his face with his hands. <br/>“There is no way”, he whispered again, angrily wiping away the tear that had dared to escape his grey eyes. “This is all Penelope's fault.”<br/>Right. If the crazy witch hadn't been talking about her crazy reincarnation theories during her last visit, then Baz wouldn't be such a mess right now. Heck, who was he kidding? Of course he would be. Because this was something he had been dreaming about, had hoped and longed for. For his love to find his way back to him. Now the stranger was gone and Baz might never see him again. But that wasn’t a problem, because there was just no way. Because even if things like reincarnation were a thing, why would his lover want to come back to him of all people?</p>
<p>*about hundred years ago*</p>
<p>“NO! Take me! Leave him be, he didn't do anything!”, Basilton yelled and fought against the men holding him back. But he wasn't strong enough. Had he fed like Simeon had told him to this morning, then he might've been in a better condition. But with no blood in his system and the remains of the illness he had been fighting for the past week, Basilton didn't stand a chance against the sheriff's men. Cursing and yelling, he watched through tears how two of them dragged his struggling lover away from him. <br/>“Enough!”, Sheriff David yelled and put the tip of his sword right against Basilton's pulse point on his neck. Freezing, the black haired vampire stared up at the sheriff with pure hatred. <br/>“You should be grateful”, the man spat and pushed his green cape back over his shoulder. “If it weren't for the proves of his witchcraft”, he pointed over at Simeon, “you'd be hung for acts of sodomy as well. So you better shut your filthy mouth!”<br/>“It's not a sin to be born with red hair”, Basilton countered, glaring and moving away from the sword as much as possible. <br/>“True. But brewing potions and selling them is.”<br/>“You know that this isn't true! This bitch just got angry because we couldn't pay this month's rent! You can ask anyone!”<br/>“We have, Mr. Grimm. If you'll excuse me now, I have a witch to burn.”<br/>And with that, the sheriff walked off, ignoring whatever else Basilton yelled after him. He also ignored how his men beat the weak vampire up and left him in the mud to die. Just that he didn't die. Basilton came back to his senses hours later and all he could do was run over and stare at the remains of the pyre where they had burned his secret lover. <br/>“It should've been me”, he sobbed and fell to his knees, sending pieces of ash and dust flying. “I'm the monster, not you. This is all my fault~”</p>
<p>*present*</p>
<p>No matter what Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch tried over the following decades, he never managed to end his life. Partly because it was rather hard to commit suicide as a vampire, partly because of the few strays of hope. If things like him existed, if there were fey and real witches, mages and gnomes and whatnot, why shouldn't it be possible for Simeon to find his way back to him somehow? </p>
<p>A few hours after the strange incident at the former inn's door (yes, Baz had bought the building a couple decades ago, just to spite the spirit of the bitch who had sold them to the sheriff), Baz had managed to find his way into his bed. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to shake off the feelings and flashbacks. There was no way that this homeless teen was his Simeon. This was just another of those cases where he would see things that weren't there. But still... the way the other had stared at his house, at the door, at him... he didn't look anything like Simeon either, not that it mattered. Baz had loved Simeon for a lot of things but his good looks were only the cherry on top. Not that the young man hadn't been good looking as well.... okay, with a proper shower, some meals and a few night's sleep... there had been some potential buried beneath all the grime and dirt. <br/>At some point, Baz fell asleep to the thoughts of sparkling blue eyes and bronze curls. </p>
<p>~*~</p>
<p>Baz didn't see the young man for a few days. Just when he had almost managed to convince himself that he had maybe perhaps dreamed the whole incident, did he see a flash of green and bronze out of the corner of his eye. Turning around, Baz watched how the other came out of an alley on the other side of the street and made his way over to the grocery store nearby. With a huff did Baz watch how the other grabbed some of the fruit from the shop's display, apples maybe, and ran off again. Or so he tried because the shop owner who just came out of the door was faster and grabbed the young man by his green hood. <br/>Against better judgment did Baz walk over to where the caught-in-the-act-thief and the shop owner where yelling at each other. <br/>“Excuse me”, Baz said and patiently waited for the robbed one to pay attention to him. <br/>“I'm sorry for my friend here. This should cover for him.”<br/>Handing the surprised shop owner a few banknotes, Baz grabbed his 'friend' by his arm and dragged him away from the crime scene as fast as possible.<br/>“Why did you do that? I was in total control of the situation!”, the young thief hissed and tried to escape Baz' grip on his elbow. <br/>“Sure looked like it”, Baz huffed and let go eventually. “You're welcome, by the way.”<br/>Lifting his imaginary hat, Baz turned to walk away. On the inside, he was cursing himself. Why did he do that? Maybe this would have been the kid's way off the street. Sure, jail was no fun, but maybe he would've managed and made his way from there? Maybe not with this kind of attitude though. The other basically screamed 'trouble' at each and everyone. </p>
<p>At first, Baz was sure that he would be going home in peace, but then he heard footsteps behind him. Grumbling, his 'friend' returned to his side. <br/>“Thank you”, he mumbled and pulled out one of the apples. A cheeky grin made it's way on his face. “Want one?”<br/>Raising an eyebrow, Baz hesitated before giving in and taking part of the not-anymore-stolen goods.  That earned himself another, more real smile and for a while they walked in silence, both munching on their apples. <br/>“Can I help with these?” Motioning for the bags Baz was carrying, the bronze-haired male threw away the remains of his apple. Again, Baz hesitated. But he doubted that the other would try to rob him of all people. And there was still the thing called vampire speed, so... <br/>“So you do have some manners”, Baz said as he passed one of the bags. <br/>“Of course! Just because I live on the streets, doesn't mean I'm an idiot!” <br/>“You definitely are an idiot”, Baz countered. “Only an idiot tries to rob the man who stands right next to his goods.”<br/>“I was desperate, okay? Try eating out of trashcans for three weeks.” There was a blush lighting up those pale cheeks and blue eyes looked away from Baz in what appeared to be shame. Baz stopped walking.<br/>“Hey, I'm sorry”, he said, catching those blue orbs again. “I don't know your story and it's none of my business. I just... you remind me of an old friend”, Baz admitted. And it was true. The stubbornness, the recklessness, that cheeky smile... despite his looks, this teen was so much like Simeon it hurt. Swallowing, Baz looked up at the cloudy sky. <br/>“... oh.”</p>
<p>For a while, they stood there in awkward silence until Baz couldn't take it anymore and started walking again, the other right by his side. It didn't take too long to reach his home for three decades. After he had bought the former inn, Baz had first rented it out to a few people before deciding this place was as good as any other house to live in. Despite the shitty neighborhood, he actually was living in peace for once. No one bothered him or knocked on his door to 'borrow some eggs'. Only Penelope came by every few months, no matter how much he tried to get rid of her. Which he didn't but Baz would never admit he actually liked her presence. Coming to stop in front of his door, Baz unlocked it and took his bag back again.<br/>“I still think this should be an inn”, the younger one murmured and frowned for a second. He then looked up at Baz, a weak smile on his face. <br/>“I never got to know your name, you know?”<br/>Placing the bags on the table by the door, Baz considered his next move. Should he tell him the name he had put on the postbox or should he tell him his real name? Biting his lip, Baz found that he didn't really want to lie and why should he anyway? <br/>So he found himself answering: “My name is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Baz for short.”</p>
<p>Blue eyes blinked and the other gaped at him. For a moment, Baz felt like he was in for some sort of comment (it wouldn't be the first time someone would make fun of his name). But when the younger one opened his mouth, only a pained whine came out and then the other's knees gave in. Thanks to his quick reflexes, Baz managed to catch his 'friend' before he could hurt himself, but what the hell had just happened? Deciding that he couldn't stand in the doorway with an unconscious, homeless boy in his arms, Baz dragged the body inside and locked the door. </p>
<p>It took a few wet towels and a cup of water to get the other to wake up again. Baz had placed him on the living room couch, trying to shake him awake. When that didn't help, he had tried the smelling salts Penelope had left in his medicine cabinet for who knew what kind of reasons. Those couxed some groans and whines out of the stranger and they made progress from there on. When blue eyes blinked open again, Baz sighed in relief.<br/>“Crowley, what was that? You okay?”, he asked, running his fingers through his hair. <br/>“I... I don't know. This never happened before?” Confusion filled those blue eyes and their owner looked somewhat scared. Which he quickly tried to mask with cheekiness. But before the other got a chance to say something weird about his name again, Baz beat him to it.<br/>“Well, if my name makes you faint, I probably should be weary to learn yours”, he said and looked at the other expectantly. That earned him a huff and a halfhearted glare. <br/>“Whatever. You've got a weird name, that's for sure, *Baz*”, the blue eyed teen said and then offered his hand. “Thankfully I've got a normal one. I'm Simon. Simon Snow.”</p>
<p>If he hadn't already taken Simon's hand, Baz was sure he wouldn't have managed it anymore. Simon. His name was Simon! His inner crisis was, however, interrupted by a pained scream from Simon. As if he had burned himself, the younger one ripped his hand away from Baz' touch, grabbing his head and sobbing in pain. <br/>“Simon?”, Baz called out in panic, “What's wrong?”<br/>But Simon didn't answer him. The only thing that came over his lips where incomprehensible syllables and noises of pain, before Simon went limp for the second time that day. </p>
<p>No matter what Baz did after that, nothing managed to wake Simon up again. So he had called Penelope, but the witch was too far away and wouldn't be there before noon the next day. Having run out of options, Baz leaned against his couch, looking up at the wooden ceiling. <br/>What the hell was going on? This was so not normal at all. Maybe Simon had caught some kind of weird disease on the streets? Or was it because he hadn't eaten properly in days? No, that couldn't be it, could it? <br/>Slowly, his thoughts went back to another source of panic and questions – Simon. Simon, who was so much like Simeon. Simon, who seemed to remember what this place used to be all those decades ago. <br/>“No, you're making this up”, he whispered to himself. “You've finally lost sanity, Basilton. Congratu-fucking-lations.”</p>
<p>“You've always been such a drama queen. But I like what you did to this place”, a rough voice answered and when Baz hastily turned around again, he was met with a fond smile and tear-filled blue eyes.<br/>“I... what?”<br/>“I can't believe I got to meet you again. I'm sorry I forgot about you, though. Good thing I still found my way back to you”, Simon said, one warm hand reaching out and cupping Baz' chin. <br/>“S-Simeon?”, Baz asked, choking on tears and his own voice, because this was it. If this wasn't Simeon, then he didn't know what he was supposed to do. But the look in those blue eyes told him that he didn't need to do anything. <br/>“I'm sorry”, Baz sobbed, grabbing Simon and holding onto him for dear life, all the pent up emotions and pain making their way past his carefully build walls. “I'm so sorry, Simeon, I should've protected you, I should’ve been stronger, I...”<br/>“Shhh, shh”, Simon said, interrupting his string of self-blame and apologies. “Don't. Baz, don't. Don't blame yourself for things that are long since over. It wasn't your fault, you hear me? And I'm here now, aren't I? I mean…“ At that, Simon pulled back some, avoiding Baz' eyes. “I don't look the same anymore and... I've new memories as well... I'm Simon now and... I get if you wouldn't want...”<br/>But now it was Baz' turn to interrupt and he did so the only way he knew was effective – with a kiss. <br/>Simon's lips tasted different, of course they did. There was a light note of apple as well. It didn't matter that it was different though. Because this was Simeon. This was Simeon and this was Simon. <br/>“I don't care if you're different now. I don't care if you want me to call you by a different name or if you've got this pretty bronze hair now. I'm still yours... if you'll have me?”<br/>Choking on tears and laughter, Simon nodded and then, when he'd manage to catch his breath again, dove in for another kiss. And if Penelope showed up the next day and found them laughing at the kitchen table and if she yelled at Baz for not telling her that Simon's life wasn't in danger anymore, then nothing else mattered besides that they finally found each other again. And this time, no sheriff or greedy landlady would manage to get in-between them. </p>
<p>*~End!~*</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aaaand that's it. Thank you for reading and please tell me what you think ^^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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